


Pretty as a Picture

by NancyBrown



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Porn Battle, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one else sees the amazing portrait of perfect submission, of grace tied by clothesline kneeling on the thick cream-coloured carpet of the darkened flat. Everyone guesses, but no one knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty as a Picture

**Author's Note:**

> written for Porn Battle XV, prompts: wax, tie, tied, submission

There is no question how much he loves this man. The picture before him only adds to the swell of affection blooming in his stomach: bound, gagged and silent, head bowed, the only stitch of clothing on his body a very wrinkled and stained tie looped loosely around his neck with the knot resting over his heart. Were either of them artistically inclined, he'd demand a painting of this in fine oils, or a quick, bright series of black and white snapshot stills framed in sleek silver.

Nothing disturbs them here, no one interferes. No one else sees the amazing portrait of perfect submission, of grace tied by clothesline kneeling on the thick cream-coloured carpet of the darkened flat. Everyone guesses, but no one knows.

"Hold very still," he commands, though he knows he doesn't need to say a word. He knows each command spoken and unspoken will be obeyed here, and the pleasure at that knowledge is doubled by the responsibility he has.

The candles are ready: white, simple, tapered. The pair of them have already explored the obvious uses before. Now he lifts one carefully, judging the weight and the melt. He reaches up, measuring the length of the fall, gauging the temperature with a sizzling drop on his own outstretched palm. He allows three hot drops to fall on his lover's back.

Only a shiver passes through the otherwise still body, and the stirring of blood to fill his already aroused cock. Another drop, no motion, and one more right in the centre of his spine as it curves in above his pert arse.

Beautiful, he thinks, before carefully placing the candle back in the candlestick and attacking the hot, abused flesh with his lips and tongue, soothing where he's just caused pain. Still there is no movement. Obedience is even sexier. When he's brushed away the last of the cracked wax droplets, he shoves at shoulders only too eager to fall to the carpet. The condoms are ready, but he has other ideas, nuzzling and licking until he's cocksucking in earnest, enjoying the single surprised moan from behind the gag. He pulls off long enough to say, "You can come," before returning to his work. Moments later, he feels the salty shot, and pulls as much into his mouth as he can.

The gag is released with one latch. He uses the momentary opening to dive in with a kiss, sharing the taste between them whilst his hand strokes his own cock. Perhaps he'll slide it between these raw red lips next, and pull out in time to decorate his face, making the picture complete.

As he considers, he pets Jack's hair. "Good boy," Ianto tells him. Jack rests his head against Ianto's shoulder, awaiting the next command.


End file.
